Ray McDaniel

Aphoria

Jackie Clark

I am no proselyte for poetry as a category of human effort. I would no more advocate for poetry than I would love or dinner or shimmying. People will pursue or enact these things, and it makes little sense to agitate on behalf of that…

Open Winter

Rae Gouirand

It’s easy to be silent; it’s hard to be quiet. If you want the former, just don’t say anything. But if you want the latter, you will have to figure out how to control for how we register sound. It isn’t simply a matter of…

Whorled

Ed Bok Lee

Allegedly, the earliest forms of writing were actuarial: lists, of inventory, accounts, transactions, rules, laws. If so, the lists should be as familiar to us as any form of text could be. And they are, of course, but that doesn’t prohibit them from being strange…

the new black

Evie Shockley

If your mother or father or the wolf what raised you fulfilled her or his or its obligation to make you fit for civilized company, she or he or it taught you not to be a show-off, a braggart, a gloater. Of course, if whoever…

The Mystery of the Hidden Driveway

Jennifer L. Knox

I have often wondered, because I clearly have too much free time, if there is anything upon which contemporary poets could agree. The only candidate I’ve found thus far is “Chicken Bucket,” a poem from Jennifer Knox’s A Gringo Like Me. “Chicken Bucket” has earned…

The Cloud Corporation

Timothy Donnelly

Something’s…wrong. Ask anyone. Tremendous consensus! A quorum undermined only by the variety of possible explanations, for when a people intuit threat, they turn to metaphor. What thrill we extract from making little monsters to manage enormous fears. So of those pop monsters made monstrous by…

Bird Lovers, Backyard

Thalia Field

And now I persuade you to acquire a book from which any quote or sampling is both wholly representative and of no indicative use whatsoever. Let’s! Were I to ask the Lord why Bird Lovers, Backyard is not one of Barnes and Noble’s 100 Best…

Each and Her

Valerie Martínez

The world is filled with appalling things, impossible to rank or even count. But difficulties of enumeration don’t make the horrors equal, even if each must remain distinct to those who endure them. That said, some injuries elude comprehension. The abnormal is easy to understand,…

Volume One

Liam Agrani

I usually have no sympathy for readers (suddenly tempted to end the sentence right there) who voice their objections to poetry they don’t like by fretting about how the poems don’t seem to care about the reader, or serve the reader, or give the reader…